


Till We're All Alone (I Can't Wait)

by mrs_d



Series: SamSteve Bingo [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Roleplay, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: Steve has a fantasy, and Sam has a plan to make it happen.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: SamSteve Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571554
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Till We're All Alone (I Can't Wait)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NachoDiablo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/gifts).



> Square filled: "Quickie."
> 
> Title comes from [I Can't Wait by Nu Shooz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJ1tBVtYOBc). (Warning: embedded link contains extreme 1980s surrealism.)

Steve had a fantasy. And, although it had taken some time — and a healthy dose of Thor’s magical liquor — Sam had finally learned about it. 

_It’ll never happen,_ Steve had slurred after he’d gone through the details. It was late, and he was getting a little maudlin by then. _The risks, God, it’s not worth it. And you know me, I’d be a nervous fucking wreck. But I want it. I want it so bad, Sam._

Three weeks and a lot of sober discussion later, Sam had managed to convince him otherwise. It could work — Sam could give Steve what he wanted — as long as they were in a safe place where they could roleplay the risks and reap the rewards.

So here he was, sitting in the living room in his older dress blues that didn’t fit him so well anymore. He ran over the plan in his mind again while he waited for Steve, reviewing the details like an actor who’d memorized a script. 

_We’re in uniform,_ Steve’s fantasy began. _At some fancy party, with lots of rich people and politicians looking to kiss my ass._

Sam had chuckled at that. Steve’s bluntness was a force to be reckoned with once he’d had too many drinks to care. Sam wished he could be as frank in the bedroom. They were working on it.

When Steve finally emerged, Sam stood up to greet him. Steve was wearing one of the many dress uniforms that the government had given him when he first woke up — before he disappointed them all by preferring his original brown serge — and, unlike Sam’s, it fit perfectly, highlighting his square, broad shoulders and narrow waist. 

“Wow,” Sam said softly. “Don’t you look gorgeous?”

Steve smiled at the compliment, but it didn’t last. “You, too. But I don’t know about this,” he admitted, tugging at his tie. 

Sam nudged his fingers away and straightened it again. “We don’t have to,” he reminded him. 

“I know,” Steve said, but he sounded hesitant. Sam held his shoulders and looked into his eyes.

“Seriously, we can do something else,” he insisted. “Just because you agreed to try this doesn’t mean we actually have to go through with it. Or at least not right now. We can wait until you’re more comfortable, or—”

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna be more comfortable,” Steve interrupted.

“Never is an option, too,” said Sam, unfazed. “There’s no pressure.”

“I know,” Steve said again. He expelled a short breath. “But I want to.”

Sam kissed him then, partly because it was so damn hard to get Steve to admit that he wanted things, and partly because it was the best way Sam knew of to knock Steve out of a spiral.

“I want to, too,” he said when he pulled back. “But remember, we don’t have to go all the way if it gets too much for you. If it’s not working, or you want to stop, you just say the word.”

“Cantaloupe,” Steve supplied dutifully.

“Right. Cantaloupe,” Sam repeated. “Cantaloupe means stop, no matter what.”

Steve nodded. He was beginning to look more at ease, though not excited yet. Sam had a feeling that the scene itself would do that, once they got started.

He kissed Steve again and stepped back. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Steve replied, with that familiar, self-deprecating smile. “But— I’m not much of an actor, Sam.”

Sam grinned at him. “You don’t have to be. You just be you, and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” Steve said, sounding a little more certain now. 

“Besides,” Sam added, picking his phone up off the coffee table. “Once we get going, you won’t be faking. I guarantee it.”

That did something — Steve seemed to shiver, and he licked his bottom lip un-self consciously. Oh yeah, Sam thought. He wanted this all right. 

Sam tapped his phone a few times. A moment later, jazzy music, underscored by the sound of a crowded room, drifted out of the wireless speakers that Sam had connected in the living room and the hallway.

“What the?” Steve asked, looking around in surprise. 

“I thought it would help to set the mood,” Sam explained, hoping that he’d thought right. “I figured, you like music when we—”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve cut him off, pink-faced. “But how’d you get the sound effect?”

“You’d be amazed at what people put on YouTube,” Sam replied, as he made sure his phone’s ringer was off, so they wouldn’t get interrupted. “Creating soundscapes is a whole industry these days.”

“Wow,” said Steve. He smiled at Sam, looking much more relaxed. “Thanks, Sam.” 

“No problem,” Sam said, pleased. He set his phone back down. “Now, you just get comfortable, okay? When I come back in, we’re starting.” 

Steve nodded, and Sam went to the kitchen to wait for his moment. He counted to sixty, then leaned around the corner a bit to see Steve pacing in the living room. Sam made himself wait one full minute between glances, and by the fifth repetition, Steve seemed to have relaxed into the role.

 _I’m greeting dignitaries, shaking hands, pretending I’ll remember their names. Posing for photos, just barely keeping it together._

Not much of an actor my ass, thought Sam, watching him. Even from here, his smile looked forced. 

Sam waited a full three minutes more, though, just to up the surprise. 

Finally, when Steve had his back turned, Sam took a breath and left the kitchen. He strode around the corner, crossing the room in a few long, purposeful strides. Steve whirled around at the sound of his hard-soled shoes on the floor, and his shoulders snapped immediately to attention. 

_You come in. You find me, and in front of everyone, you tell me that you need me._

“Captain, there you are,” Sam said, relief in his tone. “I’ve been looking all over.”

“Sam?” Steve said, with a passable amount of surprise. “What is it?”

“Can I borrow you for ten minutes?” Sam asked, grabbing Steve’s elbow. “We’ve got a bit of a situation outside, and I could use your expertise.”

“A situation?” Steve repeated, and Sam gave him a significant look. 

_You tell me something that only you and I know the meaning of._

“Yes,” Sam said, serious and urgent. “Will you come?”

Steve broke character for a split-second, his lips twitching, but he recovered. “Of course,” he said.

“Right this way,” Sam said, squeezing Steve’s elbow and guiding him towards their spare bedroom. They’d agreed that this would be better than their own room for the scene, but Sam had a little trick up his sleeve that he hoped would really sell it. 

“Through here,” he said, and then he opened the closet. He even managed a look around, like he was worried they’d be followed, before he shoved Steve inside and stepped over the threshold himself.

It took him three fumbled attempts to get the light — a little battery-operated thing that he’d put there this afternoon. It lit the space with a weak yellowy glow, enough to see Steve’s eyes widen at the unfamiliar look of the closet.

Sam had removed all the things they normally kept in here, like his gym bag and Steve’s easel. He replaced them with the vacuum, broom, mop, and bucket. The shelves now held the cleaning supplies that they normally kept under the sink — bottles of bleach, all-purpose cleaner, and dusting spray.

Steve inhaled at the touch of Sam’s hands to his sides. Then his nostrils flared, and Sam knew he could smell the bit of cleaner that he’d sprayed into the mop bucket earlier, just to give the closet a hint of that sterile, industrial aroma.

 _Unsexy._ That had been Steve’s word for it. 

Sam slid his palms over the rough texture of Steve’s uniform, down and around to cup his ass. He pulled Steve closer, putting his own back to the door. 

“Sam, what—?” Steve said, and he sold Sam on the surprise this time. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” Sam breathed against his lips. “We only have a few minutes.”

He shifted his hips and tugged at Steve’s ass to bring their groins together. Even through the layers of cloth, he could tell Steve was already pretty turned on. Steve drew in another breath, his eyelids fluttering. 

“We shouldn’t,” he said, even as he started to rub against Sam’s leg. “Someone will hear.”

“Not if we’re quiet,” Sam replied in a whisper. It took some effort, but his hands found Steve’s belt buckle under his tunic. He fondled it, pressing his palm against the heat of Steve’s trapped cock. “Can you be quiet for me?” he asked.

Steve let out a muted whimper and nodded. Sam kissed him and quickly undid his pants. Steve was only half-hard, but his cock practically jumped in Sam’s hand, hot and eager and expanding by the second.

“You too,” Steve mumbled a second later, his fingers fumbling at Sam’s zipper.

Sam batted his hands away. “No, baby, this is for you,” he replied. 

“But—”

Sam ran his thumb over the head of Steve’s cock, circling the slit the way he knew Steve liked. The distraction worked: Steve inhaled sharply, and his knees seemed to buckle. Sam shifted his weight and spun them around, so Steve had the support of the door behind him.

“I want—” Steve started to say. Sam paused to let him gather himself enough to finish his sentence. “You should enjoy yourself, too.”

“Oh, I am,” Sam assured him. He gave Steve three firm strokes, watched him go weak again. “Believe me, baby. Every time we go to one of these events, I want to do this to you. I need to.”

That was important to Steve’s fantasy: _It’s not sweet. It’s not slow or romantic or sexy. But it’s what you need, and it’s what I need, and we can’t wait._

“You in that uniform?” Sam went on. “Everybody wondering where you went? If you think this isn’t the hottest fucking thing....” 

He moved his hips, letting Steve feel how hard he was. Steve moaned, quiet but distinct. 

“Shh,” Sam said again, a little more forcefully. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve whispered, burying his face in Sam’s neck.

Sam kissed Steve’s tousled hair. “You know I love hearing you, baby, but the ambassador of—” 

Sam’s narrative faltered when Steve’s cock drooled, becoming abruptly slippery. Steve was closer than he’d expected already.

“The French Foreign Legion is right outside,” Sam continued, saying the first thing that popped into his sex-clouded brain. 

Steve’s eyes were still closed, but he frowned slightly. Sam kissed the worry off his face, jerking him off hard, teasing the slit with his thumb, until Steve squirmed against him and pulled back for breath. Sam dropped his mouth to Steve’s neck. 

“In a minute,” he said, tonguing at the edge of his shirt collar, “you’re gonna have to go back out there. Smile for the cameras and shake hands like nothing happened. But you’ll know, and I’ll know—”

“Sam,” Steve gasped, his grip on Sam’s hip so tight that Sam couldn’t move even if he wanted to. 

“Come on, Steve, give it to me,” Sam whispered in his ear. “Come for me?”

That was all it took. Steve’s cock throbbed in Sam’s palm, and Sam pulled back to watch. He came without a sound, his teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, his body completely still, his eyes screwed up tight. Sam kept stroking him, only stopping when he winced slightly.

He held Steve’s dick in place and reached into his pocket for the tissues he’d put there earlier — Steve’s fantasy didn’t include emerging from the closet with a stained uniform, after all. Steve watched him with a dreamy, blissed-out expression that made Sam’s erection twitch with need. He kissed Steve as softly as he could while he did up his zipper and put the uniform to rights.

Once Steve was neat and tidy, Sam glanced at his watch. “Less than ten minutes,” he reported. “They won’t even know you were gone.”

Steve huffed out a little laugh. “Hope not,” he said.

Sam opened the closet door a crack, checked like there could actually be people out there. “Go,” he said quietly, giving Steve a nudge. “Come find me when it’s time to go home.”

Steve stepped outside. Sam shut the door almost silently behind him, and waited for the sound of him walking away. A moment later, the noise of the party cut off, and Sam emerged from the closet.

“Well?” he said, entering the living room.

Steve had taken off his uniform jacket and tie. He was rumpled and flushed — no way their fictional party guests wouldn’t have noticed — but he was grinning.

“I love you,” he said, and the next thing Sam knew he was against the wall, his pants were undone, and Steve was kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“It’s time to go home,” he said firmly.

Sam gasped as the wet heat of Steve’s mouth suddenly surrounded his entire cock. “Oh,” he managed. “Damn.”

Steve hummed, and then he hollowed his cheeks and _sucked_ — so tight and perfect, Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head and his hips moved forward of their own volition.

Sam wasn’t going to last, and he didn’t even try. He was so wound up from the closet that a few thrusts into Steve’s yielding mouth was all that was needed to push him over the edge into coming. He hung on to Steve’s shoulders as the pleasure rocked through him, leaving him weak at the knees.

Steve pulled back after Sam had stopped twitching, and wiped his mouth. “I couldn’t wait,” he explained apologetically.

Sam chuckled and pulled him to his feet. “Well, you were right, that’s pretty hot,” he said, and Steve’s already pink cheeks glowed a little more. “It was good for you?”

Steve wrapped Sam up in his arms. Sam breathed deep, inhaling Steve’s clean but slightly sweaty scent, while Steve cuddled him tight against the wall.

“So good,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

“Good,” said Sam. The post-sex heaviness had begun to sink into his limbs, but he couldn’t be bothered to move yet. “We can do that again any time you want.”

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve nuzzled his neck. “For the next time the ambassador of the French Foreign Legion is in town.”

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. “In my defence, I don’t go to these events as much as you do. _And_ there was very little blood going to my brain right then.”

Steve laughed and kissed his ear. “You’re perfect,” he said. “Let’s go to bed.” 

They did, and this time, there was no rush. 

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to the organizers of SamSteve Bingo and to Nacho, who gave me the idea of a closet quickie... at their house when no one else is home.
> 
> New contact info if you want to get in touch:
> 
> Tumblr: [mrsd-writes](http://mrsd-writes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Twitter: [@mrsd_writes](https://www.twitter.com/mrsd_writes)
> 
> Dreamwidth: [mrs_d](https://mrs-d.dreamwidth.org/)


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